


just a sound somebody makes when they need you

by GlitterDwarf



Series: SV Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Minor mention of tragic backstory but nothing serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterDwarf/pseuds/GlitterDwarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Jared’s name was changed (and one time when he changed it himself)</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a sound somebody makes when they need you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SexuallyMonsterous (Alli_Bialystock)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alli_Bialystock/gifts).



> I'm trying to do the thing where I fill prompts, even if it's, you know...months later. I'm sorry! But this has been in the back of my mind for forever, and I finally had a few months to sit down and write it. Written with love!
> 
> Request: "The line 'I know a name is just a sound someone makes when they need you' always made me so sad, and I would love to see Richard showing Jared that his name is important for so much more."

**he-man.**

“You are so strong!” his mother cooed at him. Donald reached his arms up in the air, shaking his tiny fists and squealing in glee. He had squeezed onto four of her fingers; of course he was strong! Her face was so close and so nice, and he wanted to kiss it. He swung his little fists in the air and made grunting noises until she picked him up and brought their faces close together.

His chance! He rocked his head forward and gave her little pop kisses across her cheek, leaving behind not a small amount of spit.

“Thank you for the love, my strong boy,” she said with a laugh. His body was adjusted, and then she was rocking him in Their Chair. “You will grow up big, and strong, my little He-Man.”

Donald nodded off to sleep, dreaming of a future where he could hold her entire hand, where he would chew his own solid food like his mommy, where he could carry her maybe if she ever needed it. If she ever needed him, he would be there.

 

 **donny**.

He was eight when he got his first foster brother. His name was Mark. He was ten, barely older, really, but he seemed so mature and bright. He was also bigger, stronger, and immediately took under his wing. Mark showed him the hiding places in his room (under the fourth floorboard, next to a small burn mark, and then in the air vent hole accessible from the closet), introduced him to the family cat (actually a stray) and then brought him to the best places in the backyard to play.

“What’s your name?” He finally asked a few hours after they had already been introduced. Donald laughed, and passed back the Airhead that he had taken a huge bite from. 

“I’m Donald.”

“You’re Donny! And I’m Mark. We’re like those Funky Bunch brothers. That’s cool, huh?”

“Yeah,” Donald– _Donny_ –said with a smile. He kicked his feet out in front of him and listened hard to hear sounds from the house, but was only met with a disconcerting stillness. Usually when he went to new homes he could tell how good the home would be by who you spent the most time with; he had never spent so little time with the new foster parents, so he estimated that he wouldn’t be here for long. It made him ache a little for the last place he had been; they were so nice, so sweet, right up until the father died and the mother had a little too much to take care of to keep their fosters.

Still, he could be brave. “Yeah, we’re like the brothers.”

The answering grin in Mark’s face would be something he didn’t– _couldn’t,_ not even if he had wanted to–forget for years. “I’ve never had a brother before.”

Donald already knew how to read into the emotions people had but didn’t want to say out loud. Mark was lonely, and he needed somebody. He would remember every time that voice called out “Donny,” right up until the last moment when they were being separated and taken to separate homes after their foster parents were arrested. He was never again in a place as hopeless, which meant he never again had to hear such a sad voice calling out his name in need.

 

 

**babe.**

“Come on, Babe,” Maria whispered in his ear. “Just like that.”

Maria smelled nice, sounded nice, tasted nice, and felt so _good_ around him.

“Yes, Babe, right there, so _good_ to me Babe, I _need_ it.”

“ _God_ ,” he whispered into her thigh, because it was such a great nickname, such a great girl.

 

 

 **jared**.

“Gavin doesn’t usually take such a hands-on approach with new hires,” the VP–he would learn her name later–explained to him. “You’re very lucky!”

“I feel it,” said with a grin. “I know how competitive the hiring process is here.”

“Very competitive!” another VP agreed with a nod. “But you were chosen! Donald Dunn!” He paused and pulled a face. “Do you like your name?”

Donald was about to make a self-deprecating joke (he had found that these worked well when new, when well-placed) when the door to the office attached to this waiting room opened abruptly.

“Jared?”

A loud voice boomed into the waiting room. And there, emerging from the adjacent room, was the man himself. He looked around the room, eyes landing on Donald, and then raised his eyebrows.

“Well? Jared? Are you coming?”

Donald gaped a bit, then looked at the executives in the room. One shrugged, one mouthed “classic Gavin,” and the other whispered “go on, he needs you.”

 _He needs Jared_ , Donald thought, and then mentally sloughed his old name from his being. _I can be that. Whatever it takes._

 

 

**nate.**

“Oh fuck, _Nate._ ”

“Yeah,” Jared whispered in a huff as he slid into the man underneath him. “That works.”

The other man whined in need and pulled in Jared–Nate?–closer as he bottomed out. That Bro 2 Bro app was _great_ , honestly, when you needed it.

 

 

**jared, again.**

Richard, however. Richard made it _different_. And while there was nothing surprising about that exactly–after all, it was _Richard fucking Hendricks_ , coder and dreamer and experience and ray of light–it was still such a pleasure to experience. Richard started saying Jared’s name more often. Less and less it was to get his attention when they were working or get his attention so they could begin working, and it became increasingly to get his attention to show him funny things on his phone, to invite him to breakfast, to ask _Jared I know this is weird but is it okay if I kiss you because I keep thinking about it and I don’t know if I can go another day without knowing what it feels like…if that’s okay with you, I mean!_

And _Jared, you have such a nice body._

And _Jared, you make me feel so…_ good _._

And _Jared, I want to make you feel good, too._

And _Jared, I made you some pancakes but I’m not very good at it, so they’re a little runny and have bubbles in weird places, but I put it in a Darth Vader mold so at least they look kind of cool._

And _Jared, do you want to move out? Just the two of us?_

And _Jared, can you please put the dishes away?_

And _Jared, what’s your ring size? I’m asking for…no reason._

And, and, and. 

 

 **dad.**  

“So what do I call you guys?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, Sofia. You can call us Richard and Jared, or…”

“Is it okay if I call you guys ‘Dad’?”

“…Yes, yes, of course! I would like that a lot.”

"Okay, Dad."


End file.
